Susan Walker our 1st Warm Showers Guest
Day 5–Pittsburg, KS to Nevada, MO
Thank you Shannon B. Frohock for your donation!Arrived at the Super 8 super early so spent a leisurely afternoon in Home Depot (across the street), other nearby stores, and Dollar Tree–buying a microwave bowl so that I can use motel microwaves to cook some of my “add water” meals.
Got an e-mail from Frank Briscoe, my Warm Showers host for tonight. I must reproduce part of Frank’s email here. Once again I am being treated like a princess.
My plan at this time will be to either ride down and meet you part way or drive my mini-van, if it’s raining, to be your SAG.
Which would you prefer for dinner? Option #1: Drunken Chicken on the grill, with potato salad and pasta salad for sides. Option #2: Pasta with a marinara sauce with ground Italian sausage, salad and garlic bread. We have a gal friend joining us, who will bring desert. We’re planning on having dinner 6:30-7:00. Do you have a favorite beverage? We have tea both hot and iced, diet coke, beer, wine and assorted spirits if you prefer?
Is there anything you are in need of that I can get and have for you?
Safe Riding,
Frank
I had a waffle and o.j. for breakfast and then packed up and headed out about 8:15 a.m. to try to beat the storms predicted for that morning. Of course, the wind had shifted from the south to the northeast . . . and my route today is, you guessed it, northeast–69 to 160E to 43N to Nevada, MO. That’s pronounced Nevada, emphasis on the “a.” It was chilly, in the 50s I think, and grey and overcast. I put all gear inside B.O.B’s. bag, leaving out only my lunchbox and my O2 raincoat, which I have not field tested yet. Wanted to keep it dry and could not afford to have more of my gear blowing away.
The route was gentle, and despite gusts, I motored along enjoying the ride. Got to the Kansas/Missouri border in no time and stopped to take the pix below. As soon as I crossed into Missouri my great, wide, paved shoulder was replaced by a gravel shoulder. The wind, coupled with my proximity to oncoming semi’s, caused me to have to stop while they blew by. Their drafts and the north wind were strong enough to blow me onto the south shoulder.
As I was rounding a wide curve on gravel-shouldered MO-160, Frank called. I joked with him about the wind and told him where I was on the route before I realized that it wasn’t Frank I was speaking to but Crankers Cycling in Lima, OH, offering me a room for the night of May 5th anda bike check and tune-up. (Sister Sarah had sent flyers to all bicycle shops on or near my route.) It was too windy to hear, so I told Crankers thank-you and that I would call back this evening. (Never got a moment to call, so will call next Monday when the shop is open.)
I was almost to Hwy 43 N, when Frank appeared in his van. What a guy. In the summer of 2010 he took a 10-day cycling journey on his Surly along the Natchez Trace, and then in 2011 at age 65 rode a double cross (bicycling cross country and back) for multiple sclerosis. I read two articles that had been published about these two rides. The article about the double-cross ends with a Mark Twain quotation that reflects my motivation to get on the bike and to travel and explore each year: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did.” I don’t want to be disappointed. Want to do as much as I can while I can.
Only Frank and his wife, Vickie, were on tap this day to run their business: Frank’s Center, Inc., specializing in the sale of billiards equipment. Not wanting to keep him away from his work and not particularly interested in punching into a headwind for the next 26 miles, I not at all reluctantly, climbed into the van and was fast-forwarded to Frank’s house. It’s a good thing no one has donated Memory Miles on these days when I am sagged along part of my route. I would have to give refunds. Just kidding.
Both Frank’s house and business are enormous buildings (see below). When we got in, I met Vickie, dog Tigger, was shown to my room, showered (hardly necessary), threw in a load of wash, and changed into warm clothes. The temps have dropped 10 degrees since this morning, so it is now in the 40s.
The back of Frank and Vickie’s home. To the left is a large in-ground pool, the changing house, which can just be seen to the right in the photo of Frank’s Center, Inc. below |
The exterior of the 10,000 square foot building that houses Frank’s Center, Inc. billiard business. |
After all that, I brought my little computer to the office building so that I could get on the Internet and write my blog. It wasn’t even noon! Below is part of the Briscoe’s office space and inventory storage area. Behind this room is an enormous racked warehouse and behind that an apartment. Vickie and Frank were in the office working hard, Miss Kitty, their grey cat, watching intently from the copy machine.
As you can see by the trophy wall, Frank is an avid hunter as well as cyclist. Vicky told me the story of how he got into this business: Frank had applied for but did not get a permit to hunt bear. Vickie’s dad said: “Well you ought to go into the pool business because you can always shoot pool, but you can’t always shoot bear.” And that Frank did . . . go into the pool business that is.
Before he left to get the three of us Subway sandwiches for lunch (my treat I insisted but Frank would have none of it), Frank told me about what he had planned for the evening. Coming to dinner were physicians Ted and Candice Moore, beginning cyclists who were going to enjoy a 10-day vacation by riding the length of the Katy Trail, staying in B & B’s and enjoying the wineries and quaint towns along the way. Ted and Candice were bringing the appetizer: Bacon-wrapped venison tenderloin. Also at the table that evening would be Nancy Ross, also a cyclist, whose son and the Briscoe’s son, Shawn, are best friends. Nancy was bringing dessert–strawberry shortcake.
After lunch, Frank printed off my Missouri cue sheets and then spent the remainder of the afternoon preparing tomorrow morning’s breakfast casserole and this evening’s dinner. While doing so, he explained to me once again how to cook Drunken chicken: “Start with a whole chicken, rub it with olive oil and seasonings of choice, and then sit the bird on the grill over an open can of beer. Close the grill lid. The beer steams into the chicken, making it tender and delicious.” I was almost sorry I had chosen his second dinner option of pasta, despite having eaten chicken for dinner each evening but my pizza night.
Below are some pix of our dinner party:
Frank, Nancy, and Candice hamming it up with the many wine bottles that “somehow” appeared on the table |
Me posing as a lush behind the wine bottles |
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